


The Trouble with Tequila

by LadyEmrys



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: F/M, M/M, based on a tumblr prompt, drunken sillyness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 10:30:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5044837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyEmrys/pseuds/LadyEmrys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>This was a terrible idea</i> – he thought, as he returned Bors’ enthusiastic greeting with a wane smile - <i>this was, without a doubt, the worst thing he’d ever agreed to.</i></p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>And he’d agreed to protect Thatcher in ’81.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Trouble with Tequila

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nickygp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nickygp/gifts).



_This was a terrible idea_ – he thought, as he returned Bors’ enthusiastic greeting with a wane smile - _this was, without a doubt, the worst thing he’d ever agreed to._

_And he’d agreed to protect Thatcher in ’81._

But Merlin had declared that he was sick of Harry’s moping, and that the other agents were so very worried about him – and wouldn’t he _please_ just say ‘yes’ for their sakes?

He relented, following Merlin to Gawaine’s office, where the soft leather armchairs had been arranged in a circle. He sat, surrounded by people he loved and admired - people who were laughing, safe, happy – and it was such a rare thing to have time with one another, that Harry couldn’t help but enjoy himself.

Another job well done. 

Another target secured. 

Another teetering tower of paperwork perched precariously on the edge of the desk he’d been only too happy to be dragged away from.

Harry lowered himself into a chair beside Percival, staring at the twelve shot glasses artfully arranged around a centrepiece of tequila – rather a lot of tequila.

Just as he began wondering who else they were waiting for, the door creaked open and Roxy slipped in through the crack, ushering another body in behind her, and clicking the door softly shut again. The two figures crept to their seats, sharing excited murmurs with the other agents and earning an exasperated look from Merlin.

Harry’s heart skipped a beat as the low lamplight caught fastidiously styled blonde hair and a sheepish grin.

“I thought I told you two to be here for ten?”

“My ‘pologies Merlin, got side-tracked.” Eggsy punctuated his apology with a quick bow – earning a few private grins from the assembled crowd – and as he straightened, he scanned the circle. He stiffened when his eyes caught Harry’s smiling at him from across the table.

He returned the smile – and ignored the heat he felt spreading to his cheeks – as he turned to take the seat beside Bors, only to stop short as Roxy darted in front of him and claimed it for herself.

“Just need to talk for a sec, Eggs, okay?”

Eggsy cleared his throat as he nodded with a jerk of his head and hesitantly lowered himself into the seat opposite Harry. He shifted against the cool leather, and tried to stare at something other than the man across from him – unaware that said man was doing the very same.

It was stupid of him, to be so infatuated with the older man – it wasn’t as if anything could happen – at least, that’s what he’d told Roxy as he was being dragged towards Gawaine’s office, against her insisting that he should ‘ _Just bloody tell him already!_ ’

Absorbed as they were in their determination to avoid staring at one another, neither man noticed the series of winks and nods that were exchanged within the circle around them. Roxy’s locked with Merlin’s, and the Handler plopped into the seat at Harry’s right.

“Right then gents - and Lady, of course, forgive me, my dear – _Truth or Dare it is!_ ” he cheerfully announced, and was met with a horrified grimace from Bors, a harsh snort from somewhere on his right, and twin looks of devilment exchanging between Gawaine and Percival. 

Roxy glanced to her left and leered at Eggsy as he fiddled with the hem of his suit jacket, undoing the buttons and letting the dark fabric fall open to reveal his shirt – badly in need of replacing since he’d put on more muscle, but doomed to be the only one he wore for the sole reason that it was the one Harry had given him - tugging across his stomach. 

A cursive glance ahead confirmed her suspicions – Harry’s dark eyes were flickering back and forth across the hard lines of Eggsy’s taut chest beneath the white cotton – and she flashed a toothy grin at Percival, who in turn chanced a look at Harry, and restrained himself to a barely perceptible eye-roll at the older man’s blatant pining.

Merlin’s nonchalant tone of voice betrayed nothing of the hours of careful planning he’d put into arranging their game, especially finding an excuse to get the two emotionally constipated men in the same room as one another.

“Rules are simple enough – truth’s pretty self-explanatory, but if it’s a dare, we’ll be doing it in pairs. Whoever pitches the dare, chooses the pair – got it?” 

Roxy smirked as Eggsy shuffled nervously in his seat – raising his eyes in a fleeting glance to track the shifting fabric that stretched across her boss’ legs as he moved - while Harry – suspicion stirring in the back of his mind – scrutinised Merlin through narrowed eyes, and received naught but an amicable smile in return. It was only when Harry turned to frown at Percival, that Merlin dipped his head in her direction.

_Let the games begin_ – she thought, as she re-crossed her legs in effort to quell her excited fidgeting. 

_With any luck their plan would succeed tonight._

“So, we take a shot and make our choice – if it’s a dare then whoever pitches first calls it,” Merlin continued, his eyes moving to Eggsy as the younger man let out a surprised _‘huh?_ ’

“’Ang on, I f’ought the tequila was s’posed to be a forfeit?” frowned the blonde, mimicking Harry’s close scrutiny of the neutral expression on their Handler’s face.

Gawaine barked a laugh, and answered for Merlin. “Yeah well maybe in a normal game, lad – but we wanna get hammered and we wanna get hammered quick.”

“Besides,” chimed Percival, with a feral grin towards the greying Gawaine, “It’s _much_ more fun this way.”

Unsurprisingly, neither man’s answer made Eggsy feel any better, and Harry felt something stirring in his chest at the apprehension pinching Eggsy’s brow. 

_He refused to call the slight crinkling of the blonde’s nose adorable, but his mind supplied the word nonetheless._

“Don’t worry, Eggsy,” he murmured softly, lips curling into a gentle smile as blue eyes darted from Merlin to him, “this isn’t the first time they’ve played it like this – the more inebriated you get, the more honest you’ll be. Trust me, everyone will have lost their mental filter after round three.” He favoured the blonde with an encouraging wink, and the same feeling stirring in his breast fluttered as Eggsy relaxed into his seat and returned Harry’s wink with one of his own.

Their eyes stayed locked for a moment longer before both men blinked and looked away, heat rising beneath their collars. 

Eggsy rolled his shoulder towards Roxy to whisper something with a frown, and Harry allowed himself a moment to look.

_And Christ_ – he thought – _if the man wasn’t beautiful in the soft amber light, a flush of something playing across his cheeks and spreading along the sweet curve of his neck._

_It is rather warm_ – Harry supposed, clearing his throat and prodding Merlin in his side at the sight of the bald man’s knowing leer.

“Well, since this was your idea, why don’t you go first, _Merlin_ ,” suggested the brunette, snidely, leaning closer to his friend.

“Right you are, _Harry_ ,” Merlin purred, sharp eyes catching Eggsy’s assessing frown in his peripheral. 

_Perfect._

The bald man straightened, smoothing the front of his cardigan with one hand and reaching for the waiting shot of tequila, wincing as the sharp taste caught in the back of his throat and stung at his eyes.

“ _My God_ – that is _shocking stuff_.”

“That’s the good stuff!” crowed Agrivaine, as the other agents snickered and began elbowing each other, excitement palpably humming through the room.

“Well?” demanded Harry sourly, “What’ll it be?”

Merlin grinned, carefully placing his shot glass back on the table. 

“Dare.”

No one was surprised, and a sharp look from the man in question silenced the few juvenile jeers that sounded from his right.

“Oh!” called Bors from across the circle, “Let’s see you without that stupid cardigan!”

Eggsy stiffened in his seat, eyes darting wildly to Harry as the older man dropped his head into his hands and groaned, tilting his face to glare up at Merlin as the other man stood and allowed Bors to peel the soft, green wool over his head, and lay it carefully against the back of the chair.

_It was going to be that sort of evening, wasn’t it?_

Harry really should have known better than to trust any of them – _disloyal, petty little cats_ – and certainly not Merlin – the cattiest of all. 

Merlin sank back into the plush leather, tugging on the sleeves of his crisp, white shirt and turning to smirk at Harry, gesturing with a graceful arc of his hand through the air to the table and the looming tequila.

Harry held his gaze fiercely for a moment before grasping the glass in his fist and throwing it back with a quick jerk of his head. Unlike Merlin he did not blanch at its strength, so accustomed was he to the drink from his younger – _wilder_ – days before the agency.

Agrivaine - the bastard, and the only one apart from Merlin privy to that knowledge – winked.

“And your choice?” piped Roxy from beside a nervous looking Eggsy.

Harry eyed the blushing blonde - wondering why on earth the heat had made him flush so – before he noticed that Eggsy was steadfastly avoiding staring at the now jumper-less Merlin. 

_Ah_ – he realised with a sour twisting of his gut.

Not that he blamed Eggsy, of course - his friend was certainly younger than he was, and very attractive to boot. It came as no great shock to him that the blonde harboured an attraction to the Handler – they had been very close in training, after all.

Dropping the glass back onto the table with considerably more force than necessary, Harry grimaced and turned to Roxy.

“Truth,” he murmured, frowning as a chorus of exasperated sighs and huffs rose from the circle. 

“Come on, Harry,” chuckled Bedivere, “don’t spoil the fun.”

For the second time that evening – and once again against his better judgement – Harry relented. 

“Fine. A dare then.”

Before Merlin had the chance to voice whatever perverted thought it was that had made his eyes gleam so wickedly, Roxy clapped her hands and, positively wriggling with anticipation, jerked her head towards Eggsy.

“Ruffle Eggsy’s hair – Lord knows I’ve been wanting to it all day.”

Eggsy’s brows rose high into his forehead as his lips pulled downwards into a thoughtful frown, before he nodded and glanced at Harry. “That’s not so bad.”

Harry couldn’t disagree more, as he gingerly approached the blonde and raised his hands to card blunt nails through Eggsy’s hair – surprised to find that there was far less product keeping it in place than he’d anticipated.

It was much softer than it looked. 

He dragged his fingers from the other man’s hairline, up over the crown of his head, and down to the base of his skull, his breath catching in his throat as Eggsy’s eyes slipped closed when he reached the juncture between his head and neck. Harry pressed his fingers against the bone he felt there, repeating the motion a second time just to see the content smile pulling at Eggsy’s upturned lips.

Someone cleared their throat behind him, and startled blue eyes snapped open to stare at Harry, who – under the guise of inspecting his handiwork – took a few more treasured seconds to memorise the look in Eggsy’s eyes.

He retreated to his seat, ignoring the stifled laughter of more than half the circle, and dropped back into it – the hands folded neatly in his lap occupying all of his attention. 

Had he chanced a look at Eggsy, he would have seen the delightful flush return in full force, and the blonde reaching up to trace his fingers across the back of his neck, ghosting along the same path Harry’s own had taken moments before. 

_The feeling of those powerful fingers pressing against his skin lingered, and Eggsy quickly ground his foot against Roxy’s toes as she began to shake with the effort of biting back a guffaw._

Harry remained lost in thought – and the lingering sensation of Eggsy’s skin against his fingertips – until he heard Gareth cheerfully goading Eggsy into taking in shot.

He raised his eyes and scanned the circle, not in the slightest bit surprised to find that Gawaine had lost his suit jacket and Percival, his shoes – and that one was leering at the other with a sultry grin. 

_The two had obviously begun their customary race to strip each other, and Harry could only hope that their game ended before either man had the chance to do so entirely._

Eggsy, disheartened by Harry’s sudden withdrawal after touching him, was grateful for the distraction of the coughing fit that the shot of tequila induced, turning his weak grin to Roxy as she thumped his back.

He passed the glass to her and sat back, rubbing his throat. 

“Dare,” he coughed, with a nod to Merlin.

The wicked gleam returned.

“Right,” purred the Scot, rubbing his hands together – the single shot of tequila, when combined with the several he’d already consumed before everyone else arrived, had pushed him over the boundary between ‘sober’ and what he liked to call ‘tiddly.’ 

“I think we can all agree that young Galahad here looks absolutely fetching without all that gel in his hair,” he snorted at Eggsy’s embarrassed wave of acknowledgement – and Harry’s sour glare in his direction – “but what about Dear Arthur?”

He permitted the jeering this time – _wasn’t at his expense, after all_ – and jabbed his finger towards Harry’s head.

“Eggsy – get rid of that.”

Harry’s startled brain was struggling to process the order, and he flinched back in surprise as he felt Eggsy’s soft hands slip into his hairline, gently pulling chestnut curls free from the hard gel he’d set them in that morning. 

His eyes wandered to Eggsy’s face, heat pooling in his cheeks at the younger man’s shy smile.

Almost as quickly as he’d appeared at his side, Eggsy returned to his seat, and Harry was once again left staring at his lap, one hand raised to rake through his now unruly hair, oblivious to the younger man’s eyes taking in the soft, dark curls that fell onto his forehead.

Eggsy found he rather liked those curls, and was becoming very distracted by the thought of what it would be like to take them firmly in both hands and _pull_.

The next few rounds of dares were blessedly tame, and by the time Harry had downed three more shots, traced lips across both of Eggsy’s cheeks and had his glasses stolen from his face by the boy’s clever mouth – during which Eggsy had inadvertently pressed a soft kiss to the bridge of Harry’s nose – Gawaine was stripped to his trousers and Percival had lost his tie and socks, and was slouched against the red leather of his chair - white shirt undone and splayed fetchingly against the leather – while angling his pale chest towards Gawaine’s hungry eye.

It was Eggsy’s turn again, and given that every one of them was sufficiently sloshed, Harry was expecting another lewd demand to be made of him and the younger man.

What he did not expect, was for Merlin to turn to Roxy and dare – _order_ – Eggsy to ‘ _show our girl some love_.’

Harry stared, transfixed, as Eggsy – brazened by alcohol - slid his hand along the young woman’s arm and delicately cupped the back of her head, pulling her face towards him and slotting his mouth against hers. They moved slowly, lips fitting seamlessly together, flashes of teeth and tongue sending sharp stabs of arousal through Harry’s belly.

An uncomfortable heat pooled in his groin as he teetered on a knife’s edge of guilt and pleasure, and he shifted to cover himself with the hem of his jacket, as his tequila-addled mind pictured Eggsy grasping shorter, darker hair, pulling broader shoulders towards him, humming against Harry’s own mouth.

A sudden burst of laughter brought him back from his daze, and he was greeted by the sight of the two youngest agents slumped together in a fit of giggling. Eggsy’s flushed skin – darkest across his freckled nose – caught the light beautifully, his wide eyes alight with laughter. 

He lost himself once more to the memory of those eyes on him as clever fingers were entwined in his hair, snapping back to reality as Percival nudged his thigh and offered him another glass. He drained it with a sputter and slurred his request for a dare.

_He was going to Hell anyway – might as well enjoy the ride._

Merlin – of course - thrust his arm towards Eggsy, narrowly avoiding a collision with Gareth’s nose. 

“Don’ think ‘e’s quite recovered from our girl ‘ere,” slurred the Handler, “jus’ go on an’ give ‘im a wee peck, ‘Arry”

Harry congratulated himself on making it round the table to Eggsy’s chair without colliding with anyone or anything, only to falter at the final hurdle and catch himself on the arm of the chair. As he stumbled towards the blonde, Eggsy’s hands darted out to catch his waist – the firm grip pulling the fabric of his trousers tighter against his hardening crotch.

Fortunately for Harry, Eggsy’s gaze was focused entirely on Harry’s approaching lips, and he did not notice the obvious bulge below Harry’s waist – even if everyone else, to great satisfaction and many private congratulations, did. 

Harry, too drunk to be embarrassed by his disobedient body, quickly pressed his lips to Eggsy’s, desperately savouring the feeling of warm skin against his own, and the taste of tequila that chased the blonde’s startled gasp against his mouth. He lingered, torn between throwing caution to the wind and ravishing the younger man there and then, slotting his knee between Eggsy’s thighs and grinding until he felt an answering hardness against his own – then later chalking it up to the inebriation – and turning on his heel, fleeing the room and this ridiculous situation he’d been trapped in.

A traitorous little voice in his head earnestly rooted for the first option, and Harry – calling a not-inconsiderable amount of self-control – pulled back and shamefacedly adjusted his jacket, lest the blonde catch sight of his straining arousal. 

He was just about to retreat when Percival – having shared a pointed look with Merlin – declared that we was simply too drunk for ‘ _This Shit,_ ’ and was the first to opt out of his next round. Ector, kay and Bors immediately followed suit, and after an assessing glare at her next shot glass, Roxy agreed, and conceded the round to Eggsy. 

The blonde, shooting a cursive frown at his friend, stood to retrieve his glass, his shoulder brushing Harry’s chest, the now apparently permanent flush spreading down past his collar as he registered just how close he was to the older man. 

Eggsy angled his lower half away from Harry’s eyes - unable as he was to subtly adjust his growing erection – and threw back the clear liquid. He staggered as he leaned back further than he’d meant to, and then – to his utter embarrassment – leant into Harry’s broad chest as the older man’s arms encased him and kept him upright.

The glass slipped from his hand and fell to the carpeted floor, bouncing once and rolling under the table. Someone reached – slid – to the floor to find it, but Eggsy didn’t see, or care, who it was, for the warmth in his belly and the rush in his head had very little to do with the alcohol and rather a lot to do with the feeling of being pressed against Harry’s firm chest, the only coherent thought his brain could supply at that moment being - ‘ _Is fuckin’ shoulders’re huge!_

He felt Harry draw back, and caught the sigh that almost escaped at the loss of warmth, when the older man was stopped by sound of Merlin’s voice.

“Ah, ah, ah. You stay where you are ‘Art. Eggsy picked dare.”

The blonde’s brow furrowed as bleary eyes peered at Merlin. “Did I?”

The Handler nodded, and several ‘ayes’ sounded throughout the room, and though Eggsy couldn’t remember saying it, he supposed he must have.

His eyes struggled to find Merlin’s in the dim light - searching through the gloom for a shiny, bald head – and when he snapped his fingers to point when he did find the Handler, his face fell at the unnerving grin stretched across the older man’s face.

Merlin slouched back against the leather, dragging his palms across the meat of his thighs as his ever so slightly unfocused eyes flickered between Eggsy and Harry.

_The latter found he did not like that look one bit._

Merlin’s head titled as he leered at the pair, eyes on Eggsy while he gestured to Harry standing stiffly at his side. 

“Give him a proper kiss, eh?”

Harry, unflinching – expecting worse at this point, if her were truly honest with himself – glanced to the blonde beside him and Eggsy, feeling very brave – _drunk_ \- indeed, mimicked his earlier caress with Roxy, sliding his palms along Harry’s arms and looping both of his own around the brunette’s shoulders.

_This time he found he preferred the feeling of hard muscle twitching beneath his palms as they gripped the strong planes of Harry’s shoulders._

His eyes darted between Harry’s, searching for any hesitation, and finding none – though he presumed that it was the alcohol, and not a hidden desire for Eggsy, that prompted his acceptance as Merlin was, of course, still sitting in the circle – surged forwards suddenly to capture Harry’s lips in his own. 

It was chaste, and it was sweet, and it was apparently not enough, for just as Eggsy was beginning to enjoy the gentle press of Harry’s dry lips against his own, Merlin scoffed and called out to them.

“Ye can do better than tha’, Eggs!”

Harry had just enough time to wonder – ‘ _Eggs?’ since when does anyone call him ‘Eggs?_ ’ – before a gasp was torn from him as Eggsy’s tongue licked a cautious stripe across his lower lip, begging entrance and curling into his own as Harry was only too happy to grant it.

Their mouths danced leisurely against one another, Eggsy melting into Harry’s firm grip as the other man carefully nipped his way along Eggsy’s lips, sucking the kiss ripened bow between his teeth and swallowing the whimper that followed as he bit down gently.

Eggsy surrendered himself to the scrape of Harry’s teeth along his tongue, shifting forwards ever so slightly, almost perfectly aligning his chest with Harry’s. As he moved to take another step forwards, the warmth against his chest pulled back, and Harry’s dark eyes couldn’t quite meet his.

The sudden silence in the room was broken by Merlin’s snort, “Well. Your turn Gawaine.”

Harry ambled back to his seat, clutching the back for support as he heard Gawaine opting out of his round, followed by Agrivaine admitting that he was ready to call it a night.

The only answer Tristian gave was a quiet snore from where he lay, slumped against Agrivaine’s shoulder. 

Harry prepared to sit as Merlin reached for his glass and hastily downed what he promised himself would be his last shot, waving his hand ‘ _Yes, yes, dare,_ ’ in answer to Roxy.

Had he paid more attention to the rest of the circle and less attention to the delightful hum of arousal cracking beneath his skin – and stealing fleeting glimpses of the young man who was causing it - Harry would have been able to explain why he suddenly found himself pressed chest to chest – and almost nose to nose, as far as he could tell in the dark – against Merlin, in what appeared to be Gawaine’s cupboard.

The Handler – preening at how successfully he thought his plan was playing out – braced his palms on either side of Harry’s waist and peered at what he thought might have been the other man’s surly face.

Harry remained steadfast in his enraged silence as he shifted his lower half away from the point of something carved into the wooden wall at his back, an unfortunate movement, of course, that brought his stiff prick directly in line with Merlin’s hard stomach. 

A stifled snicker earned the Scot a rough pinch to his side.

“The fuck are you doin’?” Harry hissed.

Merlin’s exasperated answer came from somewhere near Harry’s right ear. “’Arry-”

“You know how I feel about ‘im you _prick_.”

Merlin – _disloyal, abhorrent creature_ – heaved a put-upon sigh. “I though’ you’d do sum’bout it by th’now!”

“Do somethin’?” Harry spat, “I can’t _do_ anythin’, not when he-”

Roxy’s voice called sweetly to them through the wooden door.

“Righ’ you two we’re bored now - out ya come!”

_Thank Christ_ – Harry groused privately, only to feel a warm hand grip the base of his neck firmly and pull him forwards, barely giving him any time to breath before the words were muttered against his lips.

“Here, quick – give us a kiss.”

_“Mmph!”_

It was not the first time he’d felt Merlin’s lips on his – they’d known each other far too long for that to be the case - but as the door was wrenched open and the room erupted into a raucous chatter of hooting and whistling, Harry supposed it was the first time he was sorely tempted to _bite down_.

_If only to see the other man wince._

They stumbled from the cupboard and into the light of the room, and Harry – no longer possessing enough energy to care – braved the resurgence of lewd calls and bawdy laughter as he none-too-subtly rearranged himself in his trousers. With his crimson face turned to the floor, he did not catch Eggsy’s crestfallen expression as he stared between Harry – flushed with embarrassment - and Merlin – smirking like the proverbial cat having just smeared its lips across the proverbial cream.

“Harry’s turn.”

The agent tossed back his shot – swallowing the burn with an angry scowl – and knocked the glass heavily against the wooden table top.

“Dare.”

Narrowed eyes darted about the room, and under the weight of his stare, only one person had the courage to call it – the insufferable bastard on his right.

“Lets give ‘em another show, eh ‘Arry?”

Harry surged to the side suddenly, trapping Merlin against the back of his seat with both arms firmly gripping his shoulders. The older man loomed above the Handler as he slid his knee into the space between Merlin’s thighs, a sadistic pleasure rising at the alarm spreading across Merlin’s face.

To everyone else in the room – and Eggsy in particular – what followed was a heated caress of lips and teeth and tongue – and the startled protest Merlin gave as Harry really did bite his lip was misheard as a stifled moan, for no one was close enough to hear the threat of revenge that Harry whispered into Merlin’s mouth.

Across the circle, Eggsy sat gripping the arms of his seat – scarlet-faced, sweat beading his brow – as he stared at the arch of Harry’s spine, the curve of his arse as he bent over Merlin, leather squeaking in protest as he dug his nails harder into the soft fabric.

At the choked noise escaping Merlin, Eggsy’s fingers found the soft meat of his palm, and the sharp sting of nails against flesh drew him back from the scene just long enough for him to register – an acrid twinge of shame coiling through his chest – the fact that he was hard and straining against his flies.

A frantic glance about the circle, and he breathed a sigh of relief. No one had noticed, too absorbed were they in the tantalising sight of Harry curling against Merlin, the soft glow of the amber sconces splaying across Harry’s charcoal suit. Eggsy quietly shifted to re-button his jacket, and arranged the hem to cover his guilt. 

Harry pulled back just as viciously as he had initiated the kiss, levelling Merlin with a pointed look, his pinched frown smoothing into satisfied acceptance as the Handler dipped his head in an imperceptible gesture of submission, and to his credit, looked only slightly disappointed by it.

_He was sorry. He wouldn’t bring it up again._

Harry’s hard eyes stayed fixed on Merlin’s profile as Eggsy coughed through next shot, only snapping to the younger man’s face – blush staining high cheekbones, lips glistening with a smear of alcohol, a slip of tongue darting out to catch it – as the blonde fumbled to set his glass upright.

“Truth,” Eggsy murmured to his lap, feeling it was safer to remain sitting than stand and reveal the persistent problem poking at the crotch of his trousers.

“Oh!” squeaked Roxy – who remained remarkably articulate despite the distracting warmth in her chest and stomach that seemed to spin the room on its axis - as she swivelled to face him and grab his shoulder. “You fancy anyone?”

Eggsy stiffened, eyes cursively flickering to Harry’s, only to remain anchored by the older man’s gaze as he answered – unable to do much more than blink under the weight of it, a heavy scrutiny that seemed to settle on his chest and pull the truth from him.

“I do yeah,” he admitted quietly, finally tearing his eyes from Harry’s hardening gaze to glare at Merlin as the older man snorted and muttered under his breath.

_“Obviously.”_

Eggsy blinked against the sudden sting in his eyes. Merlin knew.

_Of course Merlin knew, Merlin knew everything._

Merlin knew how he felt about Harry, and Merlin clearly already had Harry, and Merlin thought it was funny.

Suddenly it became clear enough to Eggsy, and he turned his narrowed eyes to every grinning face in the circle, passing over Harry – _poor Harry_ – who was surely as much a victim as he was. That fact, and that alone, kept him from making a scene.

_Harry didn’t know._

He slouched against his seat, staring coldly at the smirking Handler and wondering if Harry would mind Eggsy chucking what was left of the tequila at him - it would certainly make a satisfying ‘crack’ – before a wicked grin curled his own lips as the bald man raised his hands in surrender.

“Righ’ – no – ‘am steamin’, ‘ah cannae go on.”

Percival’s head lolled onto his chest from where it had been resting against the chair’s back, blinking slowly as he tried to focus on the other man’s face. “You quitin’ mate?”

“Aye - _fuck off._ ”

With that, only Harry and Eggsy were left, and the brunette sourly reached for his glass before Merlin could speak, lifting his finger to stall the other man as he threw it back with a grimace and shook his head, voice hoarse.

“Truth.”

Across the circle Roxy’s eyes were alight with mischief, and then dampened by a frown as Merlin winked and prodded Harry’s shoulder.

“Aye, we’ll only get ya talkin’ when yer _this_ pissed, so – are ye still single?”

“Obviously,” Harry hissed, turning sharply to stare at Eggsy as the younger man began coughing uncontrollably around a dryness in his throat, his teary eyes darting between Harry and Merlin as Roxy thumped her fist between his shoulder blades, a deep furrow creasing his brow.

_They’re just foolin’ around?_

Merlin’s satisfied smirk was lost on the blonde, as he croaked his thanks to Roxy and drained his final shot. His blood was rushing through his ears, his pulse fluttered wildly against his neck, and Eggsy was sure that if he tried for another he’d probably empty his stomach all over Gawaine’s nice new carpet.

_They’re just foolin’ around._

The thought was marauding through his head, pulling every attempt he made to answer _‘truth’_ back to the earth shattering realisation. 

_They’re just foolin’. Harry’s single._

And yet, beneath the prickle of excitement he felt stirring his chest, another voice seethed.

_Don’t mean he wants you._

A second joined it, whispering.

_Or he could be lyin’._

Confronted with the sight of Harry sitting across from him - hair curling, eyes dark, unfocused, skin flushed, lips moist with a sheen that could have been Tequila, or Merlin, or Harry’s own tongue - splayed against the green leather, Eggsy found he really didn’t care about the truth.

He was terribly drunk, and he was terribly hard, and Harry was _right there_ , and it made him terribly brave.

_And this was a terrible idea._

“Dare,” he husked.

A heartbeat of silence, a thud against his ribcage, a quiet snore from the corner, and then a bark of laughter through a wolfish grin.

“Lap dance! Ye’ve seen ‘ow our boy can move, ‘Arry, in the field an’ all? Go on, Eggsy lad, show him a good time, eh?” 

It might have been Gawaine that called it, or it might have been Percival, Harry really couldn’t be sure – his brain ceased to process anything beyond the words ‘ _lap dance.’_

Harry’s straining erection twitched as the blonde sauntered around the table, rolling his hips into each curve and smirking at the sight of Harry’s open mouth.

The older man’s blood sang at the heat in Eggsy’s gaze as it raked across his front, lingering on the long lines of his legs, as the blonder circled his chair with a predatory leer.

_Where’s this coming from?_

_He’s been so quiet all evening._

_He likes Merlin_ – something whispered darkly in his ear – _this is for Merlin, payback, for making him jealous._

Even if it were the case, Harry’s dry throat couldn’t protest as the blonde gracefully lowered himself into Harry’s lap, and Harry, unthinking, slotted his hands into place over the curve of Eggsy’s hips. This close he could see the buttons of Eggsy’s shirt pinching above the ‘v’ of his suit jacket, could feel the muscles in his hips shifting under skin and cloth as Eggsy guided his crotch to Harry’s and firmly pressed against it.

A stutter. Eggsy’s hips stopped moving. Harry’s frightened eyes shot to Eggsy’s startled blue as a thousand excuses hurtled through his foggy brain.

_He was shamefully hard, and Eggsy felt it and…was just as hard?_

Eggsy’s mask of bravado slipped as he felt Harry’s erection rock against his, wide eyes drifting down to stare at their tented groins. 

The words - perfectly matched in pace and pitch - came rushing in twin exclamations of disbelief.

_“You're not with Merlin?”_

A beat. A dull thudding in his inner ear, and Harry was surging forwards to meet Eggsy in a desperate kiss, his broad hands clasping either side of the blonde’s jaw and guiding the younger man’s mouth to his. 

“Oi! Tha’ wasn’ part o’ the dare!”

Harry couldn’t bring himself to care who said it, and tore the hand that had slipped into Eggsy’s soft hair for as long as it took to flip them all off. He felt the laughter bubbling up from his chest as the young man above him swayed slightly to the left, undoubtedly doing the same with his own hand. 

He smiled against Eggsy’s lips, sighing softly as the hand returned to caress every inch of Harry’s face that Eggsy could reach, tilting his jaw to the side as Eggsy’s tongue delved deeper, entwined with his and wrenching a guttural moan from his throat as he rolled his hips to meet the younger man’s.

He swallowed the answering groan he felt grating through the blonde.

Beneath the rush of tequila and the taste of Harry and the chorus of something signing in his head – _finally!_ – Eggsy was vaguely aware of the shuffling behind him as, one by one, the other agents – wankers - congratulated themselves, and filtered from the room.

“Pay up.”

“Tol’ ye so.”

“Job well done, Gents - an’ Lady!”

“Right, _the fuck_ did me shirt go?”

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up at [trashbagauthor](http://trashbagauthor.tumblr.com/) if you fancy updates about this fic verse, my other fics, and some original work of my own!


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